6/19/2023 0 Comments Chasm in a sentence![]() ![]() Write the next sentence, even if it seems awful. ![]() You still need to do it, because (like me) as a scientist you’re a professional writer. But so what? Writing is difficult, because (like me) you’re almost certainly not a natural-born writing genius. That will be difficult, to be sure: it’s uphill in all directions (that’s what makes it a Chasm). ![]() There’s only one way out of the Chasm, and that’s to write your way out. You can’t cross the Chasm by leaving it.ĭon’t ever stop writing in the Chasm of Despair. I’ve since realized: I was doing things exactly wrong. But guess what? Usually, when I came back to the writing, I found myself on the same desolate landscape, back in the same spot in the same Chasm. So I’d take a break and do something else – something less painful – with the intent of coming back to my writing when I was in a better mood, or when I’d figured out what was wrong and what to write next, or when I’d had some other kind of magical intervention from the writing fairies. The only nice thing about the Chasm of Despair in writing is that you can leave it at any time – you only need to stand up and step away from the screen. Why wouldn’t I? It felt awful to sit there and write, when I could feel my stomach sinking and I could see the vulture salivating *. Maybe you’ve been in a writing Chasm of your own.Įarly in my career, when I entered the Chasm of Despair, I’d stop writing. Every step – every word I set down – is painful, and I’ve lost hope of making it out of the Chasm to a finished manuscript I’ll be proud of. Out of the corner of my eye, perched on a dessicated cactus, I see a vulture, and it’s surely eyeing me with anticipation. As a writer I stumble through a landscape that’s desolate and parched, razor-sharp shards of lava tearing at my boots, and seeing in the distance nothing but unclimbably steep slopes. I call this point in my writing process the Chasm of Despair. I sit in front of the screen cursing, if I can summon the energy to curse if I can’t, I just stare at the page with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. In nearly every writing project I take on – no matter whether it’s an 800-word blog post or an 80,000-word book – there’s a point where I feel like what I’ve produced so far is horrible, that I can’t see how to fix it, and that I’ll probably never find my way to a worthwhile end. Warning: it’s not clear whether I’m using metaphor here, or whether metaphor, having taken full control, is using me. Image: In the Chasm of Despair (crop), Gavster CC 0 via. ![]()
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